


The Mystery of Charlize Abernathy

by Darkforesttrails



Category: The Blackout Club (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkforesttrails/pseuds/Darkforesttrails
Summary: After stumbling across a strange happening and a mysterious death in a newspaper from the 80's, a girl named Rosa decides to go sniffing for more information.
Kudos: 1





	The Mystery of Charlize Abernathy

Your name is Rosa Woodburn. You’re 16 years old, almost 17, and you live in the town of Redacre, Virginia. Whether or not you were actually born here remains a mystery to you. You can’t really...pinpoint a specific time or place when you first noticed that weird things happen in your town, but your clearest memory of the feeling dates back to sixth grade. 

It was the middle of October. You know because you remember, vividly, how your sisters argued over who had the best Halloween costume. Elsie was determined to take home whatever prize they were offering at the school costume contest. 

You weren’t interested in costumes, though; too many people staring at you. What you were interested in, however, was your classwork. Your assignment for Mrs. Johnson was to find a major event in Redacre’s history and write a 10 page essay on it. Your wrist still cramps just thinking about it.

That essay was where the weirdness started for you. 

Mrs. Johnson was very choosy about topics and anything you picked had to be run by her first. You spent hours at the library, searching for ideas that would stand out to both you and her. You’ve always hated writing, so you decided that if you were going to sacrifice precious wrist muscles on it, you could at least find something fun to write about.

Somehow, between books on the town’s founding and decades worth of newspapers, you stumbled across a headline that caught your eye. 

**“MISSING WOMAN FOUND IN SEWER”**

You traced your finger across the page as you read, mesmerized, through the sprawling front page article. 

The remains of someone named Charlize Abernathy, aged 19, had been found inside a drainage pipe. She went missing from her home 10 days prior and was found when Sanitation was inspecting a block in the pipes. The police investigation came up inconclusive and the coroner ruled her death accidental. Officially, the story was that Charlize, confirmed by family and friends to be as adventurous as she was reckless, had likely climbed into the pipe to explore. She then became trapped and, unable to get back out again, suffocated to death. 

The article also detailed how Charlize’s mother was beside herself, insisting her daughter wouldn’t have just climbed into a sewer pipe in the middle of the night with no flashlight. Her father, meanwhile, stated that she constantly ended up in places that she shouldn’t have been, citing the time they found her stuck in a particularly deep animal den in the woods.

The date was October 31st, 1983. 

That was it! You had your topic! What could be more important to Redacre’s history than an honest-to-god mysterious disappearance followed up by a sudden death? You could even tie it into the updated policies of the modern day police department! It was perfect!

Or. It would have been, if Mrs. Johnson had approved the topic. When you came up to her with your written proposal, looking at her expectantly, she took one glance at your idea and shook her head. 

No, she’d said. This was important, yes, but you were supposed to be looking for information on things crucial to Redacre’s beginnings. She wanted the arms and hands of history, not the birthmark on the elbow. You didn’t respond. You instead just looked down at your feet, dejected. Your teacher, feeling sorry for you (you learned early on to recognize when people felt sorry for “Poor, shy, stuttering little Rosa” and you’ve always hated it), whipped you up a list of topics closer to what she was looking for instead. 

Why did she give you free reign to pick something then, you wondered with a note of annoyance. 

But no. Your curiosity was piqued now. You would write an essay on Redacre’s first mayor for the sake of your grade, but you weren’t done with this topic on your own time. 

You couldn’t investigate alone, though. You were going to need some help.

It was time to call your sister.


End file.
